


better

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon), sharpshooting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Developing Relationship, F/M, but with concepts from s6, set between s3 and s4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 03:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharpshooting/pseuds/sharpshooting
Summary: On Lance, and slipping down the escarpment of his loverboy status.





	better

The girl in front of him was pretty, Lance thinks.

Or, at least, objectively pretty? He didn't know, but she had soft curls and flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and he honestly didn't know why he wasn't already walking on air from that look, but he... _wasn't._

"Could I—" she squeaked, leaning close and—oh, woah, okay that's a little _too_ close—and then went on, "Could I get a-a picture? Maybe? I've wanted to meet you for _so long_ this is like a dream come true—"

"Uh," said Lance. Why did he feel so _awkward?_ "Sure thing! I live to please."

His fan made a pitchy little squeal, latching onto his arm in a way that really should have been _very nice_ , and pulled out her space smartphone. Cheek smooshed against his, she chirped, "Say _Shlurlork!"_

_"Shlurlork!"_

As his fan bounced back to admire her newfound trophy, Lance wondered...

When had this fan-pandering thing gotten so _weird?_

Heck, when had he even started to think of it as 'pandering'? Didn't this used to be the very best part of bringing another planet into the coalition? What changed?

His fan's friends crowded around her, giggling and cooing at the picture. Some of them shot shy, excited glances at Lance, and Lance...

Lance wasn't sure what to _do_ with that.

 _But,_ he thought, watching the first girl cuddle her space smartphone. _I guess she **is** pretty cute._

"Oh, Lance, there you are."

Something did a somersault in his chest, the way it did sometimes when he heard Allura's voice (it'd been happening more and more often lately—what was up with that?), and he smiled at her over his shoulder. "Here I am. Were you looking for me?"

"We were," she confirmed, smiling back at him ( _ah_ ). "It's time we left."

Lance bowed to the gaggle of girls with a flourish, that odd unsteady feeling zipping right back up to his heart, and winked when they giggled.

Unease or no, he still had it.

"You're good to them," Allura said once they were out of earshot.

"What?"

Allura was smiling fondly at the road as they walked. "I think I underestimated it before, but... you do well. You're kind."

"Oh."

That was... _not_ what he'd expected.

As he couldn't summon up his voice again, he was left to follow Allura out of the city in silence.

And it was odd, but trailing after her as she led the way back to where they'd left their lions, Lance couldn't have felt _less_ like he was floating on air. The smell of earth was in his nose, the dirt shifting under his boots. Every brush of the breeze was a little surprise, a little caress. The thrum of civilization slowly petered out of consequence the farther they got from the city, and Allura...

She walked on, regal and poised and proud, the lines around her eyes both terrified and profoundly relieved, ready to take the next fight head-on.

Beautiful.

She was _beautiful_ and he wanted— _couldn't_ — wasn't—...

Lance swallowed, the center of his chest tightening and tightening until it _hurt._ Every breath demanded his attention, every chirping bird, every rasp of grass against his soles, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.

And she wasn't just beautiful.

She was amazing.

_Inspiring._

The spot right next to her was empty, and for the first time, he was starting to wonder: what kind of person would truly be worthy of walking there?

"Is everything alright, Lance?"

Lance could feel the exact path his heart took when it rocketed into his mouth. "U-h, yeah!"

She cocked her head at the painfully pitchy crack in his voice, then said, "Are you sure? You're lagging."

Heat crackled up his back, embarrassment burning up in his stomach. "Yeah, sorry! Just, you know, tired."

He stumbled into that empty spot, chagrined, and tried not to falter at how it felt.

He was here—unsettlingly, unavoidably, unarguably _here_ —and for the first time, he wondered if maybe he wasn't worthy of it.

( _You're kind._ )

He inhaled, the sharp mountain air flooding his system, the electricity of her presence skating over his nerves, and decided: _well... no. He wasn't._

_Not yet._

**Author's Note:**

> _i am going to fight the moon_


End file.
